Please don't kill me.

Once upon a time I used to think that when I died and came crashing down to the fiery depths of hell, that my eternal damnation would entail following people around in Walmart while they knock shit over and clog up normal consumer traffic with their shopping carts.

I truly believe that shopping carts are just the devil's way of extending people's stupidness into the neutral space. Always stopping, with their cart in the middle of the aisle while they stare blankly into outer space, as if, what they are looking for was. just. right. here. a second ago. Always pushing their carts into the aisles without looking first, as if, well, no one actually walks in the aisle. I think I'll just push 50 pounds of steel wire and cat litter out into this aisle without regard for the fact that, wow, there are other people in this world besides me. Imagine that.

But no people. Following idiots with shopping carts will not be where I will be spending all of after life eternity. Praise be the devil. Or not.

I will instead be spending life in hell. Sitting. Next to Connie Chung. Singing.



Please. Don't kill me.

Nick